Change of Heart
by fitty909
Summary: This is a PWP that contains elements of some story ideas that I was toying around with. They generally centre around an idea for a fic I had (and haven't yet written) in which Akane matures (or goes back in time etc.) and is able to deal with Ranma as the insecure teen guy he is. I wanted to explore issues of trust with Ranma as well as see him explore his own masculinity. R&R pls!


This writing is a bit experimental for me. I'm not entirely certain how good of a piece this is, I just really wanted to explore Ranma and his masculinity and his own insecurities. If I were to treat this story as the jumping-off point it's kinda meant to be (as it contains several story ideas that I mean to write about at some point) it really would focus on the insecurities of the two characters: Ranma and the insecurity he feels over the loss of his masculinity and the way that that plays into his teasing Akane as he plays on her own insecurities over whether she's feminine enough.

Both of these teens have a lot to deal with in terms of how they want to be seen and perceived by those around them while circumstances seem to set them back. Why should Akane feel insecure about her own femininity? She should be allowed to be as feisty as she wants while still owning herself as a woman-real and uncompromising. And Ranma shouldn't have to feel insecure over something that happened to him. There's nothing wrong with being a woman, and yet Ranma has a huge issue with it which what makes it both tragic and comical. Ranma wants so badly to be seen as a man and his femininity is made the subject of fun. He owns it when he has to-his femininity-and it's often to make the audience laugh.

And what about Akane? Her femininity is weaponised against her all the time. From the beginning of the story, she's under attack by men _because_ she's a woman; but because she isn't weak and doesn't take shit from the guys at school, she's seen as unfeminine. There's a lot to process and it's all very, very interesting.

With that, I think that it's worth it to open with a poignant quote from Quentin Crisp.

"Well, sissy characters in movies were always a joke. There's no sin like being a woman: When a man dresses as a woman, the audience laughs; when a woman dresses as a man, nobody laughs."

-Quentin Crisp, _The Celluloid Closet_

* * *

Ranma said nothing as he looked over at her. He lay on the bed nervously, his erection at half-mast as Akane regarded him, her doe-eyes gazing at him from the shadows.

The lights were off in the Tendo home but outside was bright as moonlight poured in through Akane's bedroom window. The blue hues shone from navy to lighter shades as the night fought the moon for dominance inside her room.

Ranma watched as Akane looked down, demurely—almost a kind of shyness that surprised him—and stepped out of the kimono she'd been wearing.

He felt himself harden and his breath catch as she did so.

He propped himself up on Akane's pillows and marvelled at the sight of her body bathed in moonlight. His breath hitched and he swallowed nervously, his breath coming out in a slight shudder as she walked over to him.

No! He had to be the man! Be in control! He couldn't show fear or weakness, or even nervousness in the face of what was about to happen.

He couldn't, under all circumstances, allow himself to be vulnerable—_Too womanly_, he thought to himself.

The only real way to be a man was to act as worldly as he could (right?). He knew martial arts better than Akane did, he'd travelled more widely than Akane had, he'd seen things that Akane never had, he had an acumen for studying his craft that went way beyond anything Akane'd ever done, and that made him better than her because she was a woman. That's right: She was a woman—that's why he had to be better than her (right?).

He _was_ better than her. (Right? Was he?)

He had to . . . dominate her? Show her who was boss? Goddamn, he had a huge ego . . . .

As she walked over to the bed, that thought of dominating her stopped him.

He had to be a man, sure, but did that mean he had to subdue everything? Subdue _her._

Here he was, a timid virgin but feeling like he had to put on a show, puffing out his chest lightly and flexing his muscles in a bid to show off and, in this case, eventually, acting as though making love to Akane would mean nothing to him: as though for part of his training he'd fucked his way through southern China, and Akane was one more notch on his belt.

But could he do that? Could he put on a show like that? Treat her like garbage and put on an act like this didn't mean anything? Hell, not just because it would be a huge fat lie but because it was _her_. She was _his_ Akane—marriage or no marriage be damned! She was his fiancée as much as he was her fiancé. But what right did she have to possess him?

One glance at her gorgeous body gave him the answer: She had the right to possess him . . . because he'd given himself to her; just as the only reason why he possessed her was because she had given herself to him freely. And what a fucking miracle that was, he thought as he looked at her naked form.

He was the man . . . right?

Why the hell was he thinking these things? Did he need to prove to himself that he was better than her? He felt like he needed to. Was he that insecure?

Yes. Yes, he was. Because deep down . . . deep down . . . he was only half a man, wasn't he?

One splash of water could take away his manhood.

One splash of water made him dickless.

And now that he was in the bedroom with the girl of his dreams, he couldn't let on one iota that he wanted her. In the bedroom came the true test of manhood, he thought. Here more than anywhere else, he needed to prove that he was a man. For her! It was all for her! He needed to prove that he was all man for _her. _Goddamnit, what a _lie!_ He needed to prove it to himself. She made him insecure only because he saw himself the way he imagined she saw him: Not a man. A weak womanly creature. And maybe that's part of why he'd felt the need to take her down a peg and make her feel insecure about _her_ womanhood.

He growled in a low voice as he wrenched his eyes from her and looked at the ceiling.

He felt disgusted with himself as his thoughts went back and forth: It really _was_ just all about whether he had a cock or not, wasn't it? He really was just thinking with his cock. That was the truth. And like it or not, he thought, his cock wanted nothing more than to be inside her: to be the source of her pleasure—because that would be proof of his manhood in some emotional way he felt deep down. He wanted her to like him as a man, to be in love with him as a man, and to derive physical pleasure from his manhood.

He grit his teeth as the thought of their first meeting soured him. _I'm _not_ a man,_ he thought. _I'm Ranma, One Half._

That's why he needed to prove himself to her and to himself that he could fuck like a man—whatever that meant. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt the bed shift as she sat on the end, and he tilted his head.

He couldn't help looking up and watching as she straddled him, taking his erection in his hands as she took a bottle from the nightstand, put some into her hands, and began to rub the lubricant along his length.

He stifled a groan of pleasure as he felt her run the substance on his erection, pulling back his foreskin as she did so, making sure that it was all coated. The act had him rocking his head back as he clenched his teeth and his eyes shut.

When she repeated the action a second time, focusing more on the underside of the head of his cock, he opened his mouth and let out a ragged gasp that instantly had him chiding himself.

_Don't show weakness!_ his mind shouted. _Don't show vulnerability! Being a fucking man is the only way to be a man who fucks!_

He closed his mouth and opened his eyes again as her ministration ceased.

He watched as she wiped her hand on a towel before turning back to him.

He _had _to get control of the situation. "You act like a professional," he said somewhat snidely. "How many guys you done this with?"

It was his way of getting in her head—of gaining the emotional upper hand. It was so fucking manipulative, and he thought it would be an easy way to make her as emotionally vulnerable as he felt at that very moment.

But she just laughed instead, as if he were a martial artist who's just run out of chi. It was at that moment that he realized that he'd lost whatever game they'd been playing. She'd already seen through him: seen through his tactics. She had seen that this was just a manipulative game that they'd both been playing, and now that she wasn't playing anymore, the volleys would no longer land. He felt as ridiculous as someone playing tennis without a net. To be fair, though, the game had been over for her for a _while,_ now—at least for her—and God help him if he should ever find out why.

But if the game they'd been playing had been abandoned before now, Akane's next words completely smashed it.

"Ranma . . . you don't have to say anything to this. I just wanted you to know . . . from very early on . . . that . . . I always loved you."

He was like a deer caught in the headlights.

She had opened up herself to him.

She was completely breakable.

He could shatter her with one sarcastic remark. He could throw her words back in her face by simply rolling his eyes.

But it was too real; and hurting her now, in this moment, would be tantamount to murder: She had given him the power to murder her soul and break her heart.

It was too fucking real!

He couldn't do it—he couldn't do _anything._

So he just lay there, watching her, unable to speak.

"You don't have to say it back," she said. "I know you probably won't for a long time."

His breath caught as she spoke, watching her position herself over his erection, watching the tip of his length kiss the entrance to her body. A glint of real sadness shone in her eyes for a moment but it disappeared in an instant.

_Don't you dare show any weakness!_ his mind shouted as he felt the two points rub each other lightly. Then he heard her let out a slight moan as she sank down on him slowly.

He felt the burning fires of desire roil in the pit of his stomach as he both felt and watched as the tip of his length parted her netherlips and begin to enter her.

He let out a shuddering breath of pleasure his he felt the head of his cock suddenly enveloped by warmth.

He thought she would sink down more but, much to his pleasure, she stopped and reversed. He shuddered as he watched, wondering what she was doing but got his answer immediately as he was almost completely out of her. He let out raspy breaths as she then began to work just the head of his cock in and out of her, back and forth a bit as she rode just the tip of his erection in rapid little motions.

He threw his head back on his pillow as he let out a guttural gasp as the sensation of the act bolted through him like thunder, sending him flying ever higher on waves of ecstasy. All thoughts of manliness flew out the window at that moment as there was nothing more for him but that sensation.

She continued riding just the tip relishing the pleasure herself as she went a little faster and then a tad slower. It was a little bit of that before he gave a strangled shout as he reached his end.

He grasped her hips in a tight grip as he felt himself burst, his cum flowing inside her.

He let out another ragged gasp as, at that moment, she sank down on him all the way, letting him pour himself deep within her, an unusual sense of pride welling inside him as he pushed the rest of his seed deeper inside her.

His rasping gasps continued as he attempted to thrust his hips up and into her even as she met those thrusts, increasing the pleasure he felt as he finished.

At last, he stopped, and it felt as though hours had passed before he finally dared to let his eyes open.

_Shit! Shit! Shit! _his mind shouted. _She saw me!_ She'd seen his weakness. She'd seen him vulnerable.

He threw his head back, not daring to look at her.

His only play now was to act cool. To act like the pleasure meant nothing to him. To act like sex was just sex. All she'd seen him do, he argued to himself, was have an orgasm. It was natural. It was physical. There was nothing to it beyond that. He thought at that moment about muttering some bullshit about how fun it was and that he should get back to his room, and casually suggest that they do it again sometime.

Before he could say any of it, however, he felt her start to move.

He was still hard as a rock, and the swirling of his chi in the pit of his stomach told him that he had stamina to spare as she began to ride him.

His eyes fluttered shut in renewed pleasure before he kicked himself and forced himself to speak: to tell her that it was fun but he was taking off.

He opened his mouth, unable to keep his words from occasionally hitching. "H-hey, Akane, I think I'm gonna go-"

He was cut off by the sound of her moan. At that moment he looked up at her and _really_ saw her at that moment.

Her back was arched, sweat glistening as like tiny pearls as the slight beads reflected the pale moonlight. Her breasts lightly swayed as her milky white skin smoothened along the slight, delicate, yet firm canvas of her body. She turned her delicate neck, showing her throat. His eyes looked from her face—from her closed eyes to the round O-shape of her mouth as she moaned—down her throat, to her breasts, then to her abdomen. She was a fucking work of art! And he realized at that moment that she was offering herself to him—_all_ of her. She arched forward, displaying herself for him, letting his eyes feast on her.

His mouth dropped open in wonder at the sight of her: Seeing her like this was the most erotic moment of his life.

She let out another moan, almost as though she were surprised at the pleasure she felt as she rode him, grinding the opening of her womanhood against the dark hairs of his crotch—the base of his erection—and sighed in ecstasy.

She let out a shuttering breath. "Ranma . . ." she whispered out as her mouth opened in pleasure, "y-you f-feel so . . . you feel so good!" she said in a hushed whisper as she started to move faster, letting out little cries of pleasure as their hips met, taking him fully inside her with each stroke.

It was music to his ears as he let out a shuddering breath.

Did . . . did he _have _to put on a show of manliness for her? Did he _have_ to act like a total jerk?

He let out a shuddering breath as his manhood stroked within her.

He _had _to wear emotional armour! He _couldn't_ give himself away! It went against _everything_ his father had taught him: Boys don't cry! Boys aren't vulnerable! Boys are strong! Boys should _never_ be at the mercy of a woman! _Never_ show emotion! And never, under any circumstance, should you say, "I love you," ever.

But as he watched, he saw a woman braving the storm of his fickleness with no hope that her bold move would be rewarded—that her emotions would even be reciprocated. Here she was, this beautiful, gleaming woman, dancing as she rode his cock, moaning in pleasure as she surrendered to him the mystery of her virginity.

Something deep inside him, in the core of his being, wanted to surrender his virginity to her as well—and not just physically (that ship had just sailed moments ago, anyway): there was a spiritual dimension to this. He could feel it in the way her chi enveloped him just as her body enveloped his length. He had no idea what opening himself to it would do to him. His emotional armour was up and he wasn't quite sure he could let his guard down. And yet with all that, she was worshipping him with her body and offering herself as a sacrifice to him.

She was braver than he was!

And he wanted, deep down, to sacrifice himself to her—to worship her with _his _body.

What good was it being the kind of man his dad wanted him to be if he could be with Akane? Wasn't Akane worth more? Didn't she deserve more? Of course she did! It's the only fucking reason why he wanted to find a way to cure his curse! He wanted to be a real fucking man for her! The only fucking reason he'd needed to prove his manhood to himself was because of his own insecurity: What his dad had put on him. But once he got past that bullshit, he realized that he wanted it because he felt insecure in Akane's eyes.

But before he could get lost in the feedback loop of needing to prove himself a man to her, her moans interrupted him.

She opened up her eyes and he saw them shining with pleasure, seeing in them her want of him, wanting him inside her, watching her gaze as her as lustfully regarded his chest, raking down his torso to take him his abs before looking down to the place where they were joined before moving her eyes slowly over his body as she looked him right in the eyes.

She wanted him and she loved fucking him.

It was written all over her face and in the look she gave him.

He _was_ a man, he realized. He knew it, but now he knew that _she_ knew it. She was reacting to his body—to him—_because_ he was a man.

The thought came to him, rather like an epiphany:

When they had first met, she had slapped him when he walked in on her when they were both women. Except she had slapped him! Because she didn't see him as another woman walking in on her, she saw him as a man walking in on her.

Regardless of his outward appearance, once it was discovered that he was a man, she saw him as _essentially_ a man. It didn't matter what he looked like!

_She didn't care! She didn't care!_ he realized.

He was still insecure, but realizing his father's ideas were bullshit and would most certainly lose him Akane and that Akane didn't need him to prove himself a man, it was as though a bubble had burst in his head.

Back in bed, Akane's chi was surrounding him and swirling around his body. He didn't let his guard down yet, even as she began to pick up the pace, the sounds of pleasure escaping her with more frequency as he watched in wonder as she ascended to an orgasm of her own. He felt an almost primal growl rise in his throat as he watched her, wanting her to cum on his cock and wanting his cock to feel her from the inside when she did so.

His breath shuddered in pleasure again, and he allowed himself to let out a moan of delight as he watched her above him, moaning in pleasure as she was clearly nearing her end. It was time to take an active role in this. Time for him to give whatever gift he could to her.

In a swift movement, he had her in his strong arms.

He turned them so that she was beneath him on the bed.

"R-Ranma, you shouldn't-!"

"Please!" he said hoarsely as desire, need, and unspoken love flowed through him, "I need to do this for you."

"R-Ranma, you d-don't have to-!"

She was cut off again when he kissed her deeply and passionately.

He was so fucking tired of fighting himself. Akane laid back and wrapped her arms around his naked back, feeling the strong muscles move.

He broke off the kiss only to begin a trail of loving pecks down her body, starting along her neck.

Akane looked up at the ceiling, her breath catching as she felt his mouth make its way to her bosom as he tenderly kissed her breasts before carefully exploring them with his tongue and fingers.

If nothing else his strange affliction had taught him, it was how to touch a woman. From the sounds he was drawing from her, it wasn't too bad of a trade-off as far as those things went.

He gently ran his tongue over her nipples, gauging her reactions to his actions carefully. She gently sighed as she ran a hand in his hair and made a light fist as he did so. He ran his hands over her breasts, feeling their texture as he did so.

He continued what he was doing, kissing along her torso before reaching the apex of her thighs. He looked up at her for a moment, as though trying to figure out what he should do. Rather than embarrass himself in this attempt, he decided to put off his first foray into oral sex. Instead, he hefted himself upon his knees between her legs. He watched her carefully as he placed his erection against her opening and gently slid in the tip before withdrawing.

He sucked in a hiss of pleasure as he did so before withdrawing after pushing in and out a few times. He remembered on himself where he had touched his feminine form where he had felt the most pleasure and looked to Akane. He pressed the head of his erection against the pleasurable hood he'd discovered while exploring himself.

Her reaction was to moan, and he continued, using his erection to touch and minister to her there. He watched her moan and sigh in pleasure as she continued rubbing her there. Occasionally he took a moment to dip his length into her warmth before returning to the spot.

He watched her breathing get deeper, her nipples pucker, her body glow in the pale light as he watched her get closer and closer to her own peak. It wasn't too much longer before she was writhing beneath him, calling his name as he hastened his movements.

He watched her break, her movements heaving as she bucked against him, wanting him to prolong the pleasure. In an instant, in a flash of inspiration, he aimed his length down and moved into her swiftly, closing his eyes in pleasure and letting out a strangled grunt as her heated folds enveloped him. He seated himself within her fully, grinding his crotch against her in a bid to increase her pleasure from multiple angles. He felt her muscles lightly contract around him and he held in a groan as the pleasure washed over him. He tried not to delve into it too much—this was about her: About his wanting to do something more for her.

He thrust in slowly at first, wanting to see what she liked best before picking up the pace, seeing that she liked it a bit harder. He let out a grunt as rough pleasure hit him in a wave centred on his length.

"Ranma," she murmured, "d-don't stop!"

Her please came out as soft whisperers and escalating into cries of ecstasy as a cascade of sensations closed up and met in her. She felt herself break around him as veins of pleasure broke up and burst within her as she felt herself clench Ranma's length, the sensation of something hard within her driving her mad as she bucked against him harder.

Suddenly, Ranma was atop her, the weight of his body almost encasing her as her own body enveloped him, the circular nature of the sensation striking them both.

When her orgasm subsided, she looked up into his eyes and saw the tenderness of his affection waiting there for him his brown eyes. Saying nothing, he bent down and closed the distance between them for a kiss. She opened her mouth against him and deepened the kiss, inviting him to take more.

And so he did.

She wrapped her arms around him as he began to move within her again.

She let out a cry of pleasure into his mouth, breaking off the kiss as she gasped in pleasure.

"Akane . . ." he growled out, "I didn't know that it could be like this," he finished.

She ran her hand up the back of his head to gently scrape his scalp and thread his hair as best she could with his pigtail binding his locks.

He let out a groan and buried his head in the crook of his neck as he began to move faster, his arms on either side of her moving beneath her shoulder to pull her close to him, as though wanting to close as much distance between them as he could even as he thrust into the deepest part of her.

She cried out as the sensation of being made love to, the warmth of his body, the sense of being protected and taken care of overwhelming her as pleasure once again began to coil inside her.

"Ranma! Please don't stop! Hold me! Love me! Love me! Please, love me!" she cried. And she felt at his words as his thrusts came harder and harder, Ranma letting out a groan as he thrust harder.

"Akane! K-koibito!"

She shattered around him for the second time as she felt herself almost falling into a sea of light, wrapped in Ranma's strong arms as he held her tightly. Her body accepted him, taking him in, wanting him to fully immerse himself in her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and felt him as he shouted out his pleasure into the mattress beneath them.

She knew he was near the edge as she felt him suddenly thrust in hard. On the third hard thrust, she felt him bury himself in her body, planting himself as his length throbbed with liquid heat, offering her body one more gift.

Ranma could only hold onto her tightly and shout out as he felt his erection throb with pleasure as he actually felt his seed shooting out of him and into her. It felt like a goddamn miracle as she accepted his gift, the proof of his pleasure.

His chi spiked and he felt a reaction in her equally provoked as poured into her. Their chi swirled, spiking and dancing as they worked to unify in pleasure.

At last, their pleasure subsided, and Ranma was left trembling and sweating over the woman he loved. Loved!

He held her tightly, not wanting to let her go. If he dug down, he thought he might be able to go another round, but in the end, decided against even trying. He felt tired and drained, sensing that it would be as equally delightful to simply sleep in her arms for the rest of the night; or have her sleep in his. He didn't want to be apart from her at that moment. He'd never felt more connected to anyone else on Earth and he didn't want to be with anybody else. He knew that he could trust Akane. She was the only one he felt that he could trust with his emotions and his vulnerability. What had caused her to change? What had caused her to see him as a whole man rather than as Ranma One-Half? Whatever it may have been, he intended to find out in the following days.

He said nothing as he pulled out of Akane, feeling incredible that he'd just done that with the woman he loved, and he looked down at himself—down at them, in a kind of amazement.

"When we make love again later," she started even as he still looked down between them, "we won't have the nervousness of the 'first time' hanging over us. I love you, Ranma, and being with you like this . . . it just feels like it's been so long!" she said as sweet tears came to her eyes. "I'm just . . . so glad we're here now together like this," she finished.

Ranma reached for a tissue on her nightstand and wiped off his shrinking erection, using a few to do so before handing her the box and laying down beside her. A worry pricked the back of his mind as he watched her wiped the outside of her nether regions without really . . . taking care of everything he'd given her. She noticed him watching her and quirked an eyebrow.

"Is there . . . something the matter?" she asked.

He coughed slightly and looked away. "Oh, well . . . I mean . . . can't you get . . . what if I get you pregnant?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly. "I can control my chi. There won't be a pregnancy till we're both ready," she said. She picked up his spent tissues and gathered them with her before tossing them into the waste bin next to her desk.

As she did so, Ranma reached down toward the foot of the bed and pulled the turned about covers over them.

"Is it okay if . . ." he started slowly, "I sleep in your bed tonight."

She smiled and nodded as she turned back to him, laying beside him as he put an arm around her, pulling her close so that their naked bodies were touching again.

"Careful, Ranma, or I might wake it up again," she said as she brushed her hand by his slightly damp erection, taking a moment to feel the semi-hardness still left there.

"Even if I wanted, I think I'm too tired."

She laughed slightly. "That makes no difference. When it's at full mast, your mind will be, too."

He thought about it for a moment and then conceded that she was probably right. Just now, the thought of his erection burying itself inside her again . . . made him hard again. He groaned as he suddenly felt the push and pull between the desire to sleep and the desire to make love again. It was as though a fire had been lit. Here she was, offering herself to him, and she seemed actively interested in going on.

He said nothing for a moment as he gauged her reaction. He felt his breath leave him as she only shifted to be on her back, not even needing to look under the covers to know she was spreading her legs for him.

For _him!_

If that thought didn't harden him, nothing would.

Driven almost by a kind of instinct, he felt himself move over her and into position as her legs came around him again. His chi swirled in him, spiking and refreshing him as he prepared himself for a third round.

"There's no other man I could want," Akane whispered. "You're enough in yourself, and I love the feel of you inside me."

Ranma let out another breath.

"We have school in the morning," he said shudderingly.

"Are you trying to tell me that the great Ranma can't pull an all-nighter for the woman he loves?"

He actively scoffed, knowing it was a trap, but the prick to his ego still couldn't be allowed to fly.

"An all-nighter? You may regret those words," he growled.

"If I feign being sick, what's the harm just this one time?" she giggled.

He let out a shuddering groan as he placed himself at her entrance. "Oh, there's no way we're doing this 'just one time,'" he growled. "I'm taking you all night."

"Promise?"

"It's a guarantee!"

With that, she captured his mouth yet again, moaning as he pressed forward and deepened the kiss.

"You ready?" he asked with a sly grin.

"For you? Any time," she breathed.

Then, with another tight kiss as clutched him, Ranma let out another nervous, shuddering breath, and plunged into his wife.


End file.
